


Childhood

by followmetoyourdoom



Category: LoliRock (Cartoon)
Genre: also this is my assumption of what happened in canon, but then ofc we dont know, im just picking up subtleties that might not even be there idk, namely bc they're just kids, this is kinda heavy even for me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11026392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followmetoyourdoom/pseuds/followmetoyourdoom
Summary: Before the twins were working for Gramorr, they lived in the kingdom of Borealis, their parents royal guards. So when their kingdom and family is destroyed, they only have each other left.





	1. The Hairpin

The sky rained fire, screams filled the air, silenced by the distant resounding booms of magic and destruction. In the midst of this chaos, two burgundy haired children ran. The girl was in front, firmly grasping onto her brother's hand.

"C'mon Mephisto, hurry up."

The boy stumbled some more across the loose earth; he was a little shorter than his sister, despite them being twins.

An explosion sounded nearby, knocking both kids to the ground. Small hands scrambled to be joined once more, but another explosion, this one a little further away, made them stumble.

"I'm scared, Prax," Mephisto whimpered, curling himself into a ball.

His sister crawled over to him on her hands and knees. "Me too. But we have to find our parents."

"And Papi afterwards," he reminded her.

"And Papi," Praxina assured him, pulling him to his feet.

And then they were off again, hand in hand, tiny legs moving as fast as they could and tears streaming down their faces.

When they finally reached the castle, they realised, even as mere six year olds, that this was going to be difficult. The place was filled with nothing but black crystals, they spouted from turrets and walls and people alike. They tried not to stare too much at the people frozen within the purple magic.

"Do you remember what father taught us?" Praxina asked, firmly holding her brother's hand.

"About joining our magic?"

"Yes."

Mephisto stared down at their joint hands, "Will it be enough?"

"We have to try. Ready?"

A nod and they stepped forwards into the castle, working together to use what little magic they knew to dig away at any dark magic blocking their path.

Eventually they reached the main corridor, or what they thought was the main corridor.

The luxurious carpet had long been turned to ash, fire raging in patches across the room. Black crystal, solid and shards of alike, were scattered around - someone had put up a fight. But it hadn't been enough; because by far the worst thing about the room was the amount of bodies piled up in it. Some still burnt near the fires and the smell of burning flesh pierced their noses.

The twins gagged and Mephisto let go of his sister's hand, backing out of the room. "I don't like this, Prax. They're all- they're not moving."

"But we have to find our family, they might need us, Mephisto. They might be in dang-" and that was when something gleaming caught her eye. "No..." she whispered, recognising it instantly. "NO!"

Praxina ran forwards, stopping just short of the first patch of fire, and knelt next to the body their. It was disfigured beyond recognition, the only telltale signs that it had been their mother was the butterfly hairpin. It lay sunken into what used to be luscious plum coloured hair, now brittle black ash.

Fingers shaking, Praxina reached out for the hairpin, jumping slightly when the ash shifted and broke off in clumps.

Hands wrapped around the hairpin, her mother's ash still clinging to it, Praxina dared to glance at the other surrounding bodies for signs of their father. It was only when she glanced back down at her mother's did she realise there were in fact two bodies in front of her, holding each other so tightly she hadn't thought to count them separately.

The second body had an ear cuff, almost buried in mass of ash that used to be red hair.

Ever so gently, she plucked it out. This time she was ready when the ash shifted and poofed into dust around her.

Praxina didn't even notice she was crying until her tears were splashing down onto her parents' corpses. Almost as if she was trying to revive them. It was then that her shoulder began to shake something terrible, and she was far past caring about the stench.

In the doorway, Mephisto bit his lip, then hardened his expression and resolve, taking a step forwards. "Praxina," he called, "c'mon let's go find our-"

"Stay back, Mephisto! Do not come any closer."

"But.. you're crying, I want to he-"

"NO!" Praxina turned around, shielding their parents' bodies from view. "You don't need to see this."

But he had already seen.

Mephisto saw the bodies, he saw his sister's tears. Even as a child, Mephisto was no fool.

"That's them, isn't it?" he asked, voice shaking. "Our parents."

Praxina walked towards him, stopping him from coming any closer. He didn't have to see the gruesome details like she had, she didn't want him to.

"Answer me!" he shouted, tears already flowing and mouth trembling. "I need to know!"

In response, Praxina opened her hand to reveal the hairpin and ear cuff.

Mephisto made a helpless noise at the back of his throat and reached out for the ear cuff, leaving a trail of sooty remains smudged across his sister's hand.

"Dad... daddy, no he can't be, " Mephisto squeezed his eyes shut and cried out, tears flowing in thick drops down his cheeks. "MOM! DAD! WE NEED YOU, WHERE ARE YOU?? Please, tell me it's a joke, please. You can't be- We need you, we need you..."

Praxina pulled her brother close, crying with him and clutching the hairpin for dear life. Even as it dug into her hand, Praxina continued to hold it and soon her own blood mixed in with the remaining ash.

As a tremendous vibration shook the castle, reminding them of the war going on outside, they both felt their legs give in and tumbled to the floor without letting go of each other.

Brother and sister, squeezing the other as tightly as they could, knelt amongst the rubble and remains of the only people they had known their whole lives, and hoped for the nightmare to end.

Because this had to be a nightmare.

It had to be.

Mephisto cried out every now and again, sometimes not even words, and sobbed uncontrollably, tears soaking into his sister's shoulder. Praxina drove the pin further and further into her hand, hoping that the pain from that would help distract her from her world tumbling down around her feet.

But she could hardly feel it.

It was Mephisto that came to first, his voice hoarse from screaming which had become short sobs and hiccups. He clung to his sister even tighter as he felt something soak through his shirt.

"Praxina?" Her breath hitched as she tried to suppress her tears. "Prax, it's..." He was going to say 'okay', but nothing about this was okay- would never ever be okay.

Instead he grabbed his sister's wrists and pulled her arms from around his neck, turning her hand over in front of him.

"Oh Prax," he mumbled, tears welling once more.

Even with her fist clenched, he could see the damage she was doing to herself as the blood dripped from her fist.

After securing the ear cuff in his pocket, Mephisto, ever so gently, prised Praxina's fingers away. She resisted at first, burrowing the hairpin deeper and deeper into her hand, then gave up all together.

What did it matter now anyway?

Mephisto let out a choked sob when he finally opened her hand. The pin part of the hairpin had completely disappeared inside Praxina's hand at an angle, and the sharp metal from the sides had dug deep into her hand, blood slowly oozing from the cuts.

"I need to take it out, okay Prax? Do you remember the healing spell?"

But Praxina didn't respond.

She sat there on her knees, numb to everything. Her eyes seemed emotionless and glassed over, unblinking when Mephisto waved his hand in front of her face.

"Praxina please," he tried again, shaking her shoulders gently.

When this didn't work he used magic to cut off a strip of his shirt. He'd seen this used by civilians until they could get themselves to a healer, Mephisto only hoped it would be enough.

"I'm going to take it out now, okay?" Mephisto didn't even wait for a response, he knew he wouldn't get one.

Cloth strip laid across his knees, he rested his sister's hand palm up on his own, holding onto her wrist. He then took a hold of the top of the hairpin, ready to pull it out.

Mephisto looked up at his sister. Her eyes were still glassed over. He sighed and said, "On three okay? One, two-" Praxina stopped him, placing her hand on his.

"Let me do it," she whispered, her voice barely there.

As Mephisto let go, Praxina steeled herself and tugged, freeing the hairpin from her hand.

It dropped to the floor with a sad thump and Mephisto quickly got to work wrapping the wound up, trying very hard not to look at the mess of flesh and blood. The blood that had already soaked through by the time Mephisto was tucking the strip of cloth back in on itself.

"This won't hold long," he said apologetically, knowing he wasn't the best at this, "let's get you to a healer."

"No," she mumbled, "Papi. We need to find Papi."

Mephisto gently helped his sister to her feet, picking up the hairpin as he did and slipping it into his pocket alongside the ear cuff.

"Well he won't be here," Mephisto assures Praxina. "He went into town this morning remember?"

But Praxina hardly could.

This morning; it was only a few hours ago, yet seemed a lifetime away.

This morning, the twins had woken up bright and early, and wolfed down their breakfast in anticipation for their magic training.

This morning, Praxina had almost succeeded in getting herself off the ground, or so she had told her brother after Mephisto had burst out laughing when she'd fallen into a mound of mud trying to levitate.

This morning, they'd gleefully fought, throwing bits of mud with magic at each other.

This morning, their parents had sat and watched before their afternoon guard duty. Smiling as their children played, and oh-so-proud.

This morning, which didn't- couldn't belong to the same day as this afternoon.

Praxina blinked and noticed they were outside the castle now, Mephisto steering her as she'd been on autopilot.

"Mother's hairpin did you-"

Mephisto nodded and guided her around a smoking hole in the ground.

"Can I hav-"

"No."

He said it with such finality that Praxina couldn't bring herself to argue with him. Not that she was in the mood to do much of anything right now.

Brother and sister stumbled on, much of the explosions now far off and the fires dying down.

Usually children did not belong on a battlefield, usually they would have been taken to safety. But then that implied there were survivors around to do so. The kingdom was in ruins, bodies crumpled on the ground; Mephisto didn't even know if the town would still be standing.

But they had to try.


	2. The Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homeless, orphaned, and with only each other to cling to. How will the twins survive; and where is their Papi?

Days had past. Maybe even weeks, the twins didn't know. All they knew was that every day was a fight for survival. They lived in the ruins of their once beloved kingdom, the streets unrecognisable, and the few people that remained, fundamentally changed. 

Their uncle, Papi, was not one of them. Neither Praxina nor Mephisto could find him, and soon they started checking the bodies they came across. 

Just in case.

Praxina's hand was still wrapped in blood encrusted rags, the cut too deep to have fully healed yet; but the hairpin was now in her hair. Mephisto had made her promise to keep it there, untouched. Her head slightly clearer, but still shaken, she'd agreed and bowed her head for Mephisto to fasten it in. 

As for Mephisto, he wore his father's ear cuff, fixed on his ear ever so carefully with magic since it was still a little too big.

When the children were forced to beg for food, those that had once been nobles sneered down at them. If they had such pretty headpieces then surely they could trade them for food instead of begging like rats.

And so that had been the first night they had spent with empty stomachs.

It wasn't the hunger that woke them every night however. Nor was it the cold wind that buffeted them in the nooks and crannies they found to sleep in, or the uncomfortable floor, or even the screams and cries that carried on way into the night.

No. It was the nightmares and horrors that plagued their minds, cursing their every waking moment and destroying every sleeping one.

Praxina saw her parents' bodies twisted grotesquely far worse than they had actually been. Mephisto - his imagination much stronger than his sister's - saw Praxina driving the hairpin deeper and deeper into her flesh. And not that of her hand, but rather of her chest. 

So young, and already death had shaken them to their very core.

Whenever these thoughts and images crossed their minds, each would scramble for the other; a reminder that they weren't alone, that they still had family.

Sometimes holding each other closely was enough to ward the nightmares off. 

Sometimes it wasn't.

They distracted themselves with games: who could send a crystal the farthest (Praxina), who could tell the longest story (Mephisto), who could get the most food from strangers (always a tie; they rarely got any). Soon, even games weren't enough. 

The children started to lose hope.

They became angry, searching for something - someone - to blame. It wasn't fair, none of this was fair.  They should be home with their parents enjoying a hot meal, their uncle popping in unexpectedly and uninvited.

And somehow, that's exactly what happened.

The twins had gone into the ruins of their town trying to find their Papi, and instead  _ he _ had found them, almost three weeks later.

However, it was not the happy reunion the twins had been looking forward to.

It had started as a morning like any other. Mephisto waking in a cold sweat, gasping for breath; and Praxina waking up immediately after, hurrying to comfort her brother.

"It's okay, I'm here," she had mumbled, rocking him gently, "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Promise. We'll always be together, I'm here, I'm okay. You're okay, okay?" Because, of course, she knew about his nightmares - they told each other everything, they always did, and always would. 

Or so their naïve minds believed.

It was as Mephisto was recovering, small hands still clutching onto his sister's sleeves, that they first heard the rumbling.

"W-what is that?" Mephisto whispered, snuffling slightly.

Praxina shook her head and quickly got to her feet, pulling Mephisto with her. "Whatever it is, I don't like it. We should go, Mephisto."

"But we're safe  _ here _ ," he pointed out, "we should stay here."

"Well I'm older and I say we leave. Now."

There was so much conviction in her voice that Mephisto caved immediately. He nodded and allowed himself to be dragged along as Praxina navigated the ruins of the cottage where they'd spent the past three or so nights.

Other survivors were anxiously looking around, the noise not yet loud enough to shake them from their nests of scraps and leftover belongings they'd managed to scavenge. But all the twins had was each other, the clothes on their backs, and the trickle of hope inside them that still hung on by a thread. They continued on, stirring up dust and ashes as they went.

The more they picked up the pace, the louder the noise got - they were like ants trying to escape a vacuum. 

Scattered, scurrying, and scared.

By this time other people were starting to move too. Whatever this was, it was big enough to cause quite a stir amongst even the grumpiest and decrepit of homeless citizens.

A man wearing rags of the riches struggled to carry a burnt wooden casket; a woman with grey hair and dull eyes was deaf to the cries of the children she dragged along; a group of even smaller children shuffled along unsupervised and huddled together for comfort; somewhere a baby wept in the arms of its mother who had starved to death in the night giving her baby its last meal.

The twins had seen all this and worse, and so they continued without stopping.

They were never offered any help, so why should they give it. They had each other, that was enough.

Out here in the real world, the world they'd rarely even seen, you looked out for your own. But only your own. There weren't enough resources for people to think of anyone but themselves and perhaps those closest to them, if they cared enough.

Praxina held tightly onto her brother's hand as the rumbling became thunderous and refused to look back, for that would be to give into the fear, to give into whatever it was that was chasing them.

They didn't even notice the first magic attack that flew past them until a man running ahead of them became encased in a dark crystal like substance.

Panicked, Mephisto looked back. But his demeanour soon changed as he saw the culprit.

"PRAXINA! LOOK!" He let go of his sister's hand and stopped dead. "Papi! Uncle Papi, it's me!!" he waved his chubby little arms in the air, not thinking for a second about the risks this could pose. Papi was family, of course he would never-

"LOOK OUT!" Praxina tackled him to the ground, shoving him out of the way just in time.

Where Mephisto had been stood mere seconds ago was a crystal trap just like the one from before, only this one perfectly sized for a small child.

Mephisto stared dumbfounded at it. Surely there had been a mistake? Papi was quite a way away even now, maybe he hadn't recognised his nephew, maybe it had been one of those other men riding alongside his uncle on pyrolems - dark creatures from the Voltan forests, rare (and usually insane) were their riders.

Either way, it couldn't have been Papi, not intentionally.

Praxina had no such doubts.

"He tried to… he…" She shook with anger, standing up protectively in front of Mephisto as she raised her hand, calling her own magic, tainted red with rage. "You dare attack my brother! You, my own flesh and blood?"

There was no warning for the next attack.

This one was different from the other two and wasn't even aimed at them; but the shockwave of it sent Praxina flying backwards and Mephisto sliding even further into the dirt.

Dust flew up all around them, separating the twins from their enemies, but also each other. 

Coughing and spluttering, Mephisto crawled to his knees and squinted in an attempt to find his sister. "Praxina? Prax, are you here?" Blindly he made his way out of the dust cloud, hands carefully held out in front of him. "Praxina!!"

But there was no reply.

His voice became desperate, his feet moved faster, his breath shook with fear. She had to be okay. She had promised him and Praxina never broke her promises. Never, ever.

It was only when he fell to his knees once more that he saw her. A crumpled figure slumped against one of the half standing buildings, head hung down, motionless. Her hair draped over her face, the hairpin still firmly in place glinting unfairly peacefully in the morning sun as its crepuscular rays filtered through the dust.

But Mephisto didn't have time to be entranced by the beauty of the scene; he tripped to his feet only to crash down next to her moments later to begin shaking her.

"Wake up, Praxina. Please, c'mon! You have to wake up!" 

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched at his sister, pleading with her to wake up. His words became blubbering nonsense, and his head fell to her chest. Blood mingled with tears and sweat, and dust and dirt. Distant screams and explosions ravaged the land outside the dust cloud while Mephisto's screams of anguish billowed about inside, racking his entire body and spilling out however it could.

Praxina heard none of this.

But Mephisto could hear another sound cutting through the din.

A steady sound, a rhythmic comforting sound. A sound that changed Mephisto's tears of sorrow into ones of hope and joy. 

Her heartbeat.

When his sobs turned to hiccups and eventually even those faded away, he could hear her breath too. She was alive, if barely.

Mephisto steadied his breathing and hands, lifting his sister into his arms as carefully as he could, struggling a little but determined to get her away from here, to get her to safety. Wherever that was.

He didn't take more than two steps before another shockwave knocked him back to his feet; and this time, he did not get back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :>


End file.
